


Sisterly advice

by TheMagicMeep



Series: Trust and a lack thereof [10]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Background Relationships, Gen, Pre-Relationship, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 18:27:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMagicMeep/pseuds/TheMagicMeep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wales is in need of Scotland's help but Scotland isn't all that sure why</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sisterly advice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moonlighten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlighten/gifts).



> This is a kinda late Christmas fic for the lovely moonlighten. Who I know is very fond of Wales and Scotland interacting so I wrote this and I hope it will do. 
> 
> Sorry for being so late Moon!

To say Scotland was suspicious would have been an understatement; she had passed by being suspicious about two strange conversations and four hastily ended phone calls ago. Wales’s sudden desire to take her out for her tea was just the last straw; she told herself that she only went along with it out of sheer curiosity and her natural unwillingness to turn down a free meal.

But now she had to sit and watch as Wales tried to figure out whatever it was he was going to say and she wasn’t altogether sure anymore that getting fed was worth the suspense. He kept opening his mouth and then going quiet or beginning a conversation only to suddenly change the subject when it veered off the more or less safe subjects of television, the weather or mocking England’s attempts at sport.

Wales finally just lifted his menu and huddled down behind it as though it was a wall, shooting glances over it every so often as though checking she was still there. When she raised an eyebrow at him he hunched his 6ft frame even further behind his flimsy shield.

With a roll of her eyes Scotland picked up her own menu and began to look over her possible choices, taking great care to hover over the most expensive options just to see her brother twitch when she read them aloud.

This was hardly the kind of place France had been taking her lately and for that she was grateful. She was harbouring the suspicion that he was trying to improve her diet by exposing her to “ _fine cuisine_ ” as often as he could and hoping that by some kind of magical osmosis that it would stick. Though Scotland wasn’t all that fond of _“fine cuisine_ ” she figured that as long as she wasn’t paying for it she would live with it.

The pub Wales had dragged her out to was more to her taste, it didn’t make her feel out of place and served good proper wholesome food with names she could actually pronounce. It was also a great deal cheaper than any of Frances haunts which made her feel great deal more comfortable as she browsed the menu.

“What are you thinking of having then?” she asked, more to start a conversation than out of any real interest.

Wales’s thick brows drew together over the top of the menu, then he sighed heavily and put it down “I might just go with the fish and chips” he said “you?”

“You live a dangerous life Gareth” Scotland drawled amused, “I might branch out a bit and try their Balmoral chicken”.

“Is that the one that has Haggis in it?”

“Aye and whisky sauce, why?”

He just smiled and shook his head “nothing”.

They fell silent after that until a young waitress came, took their order and dropped off the drinks and cutlery before hurrying away to deal with the big group at the bar. She also took their menus which left Wales with nowhere to hide when Scotland turned to him.

“So what’s this all about?”

He hunched his broad shoulders and stared into the depths of his drink as though it would somehow save him from having to answer any questions.

“Gareth?” Scotland snapped out a little more impatiently.

“I’ve… met someone” he forced out after a long while of nervous silence and as the words left his lips a blush began its slow march up across his bearded face.

“As in there’s someone I _like_ or I bumped into someone down the road?” Scotland asked just to be sure.

He smiled slightly, “the first one”.

Scotland blinked and lent back in her chair, this really wasn’t what she had expected. Wales had gone through most of his life without showing much interest in the whole “romance” thing. He could come up with sappy poems and had always sympathetically listened when one of his siblings complained about their relationship problems but she had never once heard him talk about being interested in someone.  

It was good news though, Scotland thought as she sat and tried to form the right words for a response, her brother deserved to be happy and she really did hope that it worked out. Wales looked up at her from under his messy dark hair as he waited for her to react and she tried to look reassuring for him.

But a sudden thought struck her bringing with it a dull sense of dread, what if this person her brother had met was not one of their kind? He didn’t visit many other nations and in the last few centuries he had become shy and he spent most of his time among humans. It wasn’t unheard of and of course there had been nations who had fallen in love with a human before, but it never ended happily and Scotland dreaded seeing any of her brothers heartbroken.    

She lent forwards to speak quietly to Wales but a handsome young waiter chose that second to make an appearance. He apologized that their meals were taking so long and while it was nice for him to have bothered at the moment she was more interested in Wales’s possible relationship than eating anything.

The moment the man had gone out of earshot Scotland asked “who is it?” and made a silent prayer that the answer would not be some human that he had met in the post office or something similar. Wales glanced up at her then quickly shot a look around to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard. Scotland personally felt that the sheer volume of chatter would mean that it was very unlikely that anyone would be able to listen to their conversation without some kind of superhuman hearing ability but then it always paid to be cautious so she said nothing.

“Its…” he fell silent again and Scotland fought down the urge to growl. Wales really wasn’t the most talkative man in existence when it came to himself and often figuring out what was going on behind his beard was a pain in the arse.

She sighed “unless its France or one of the family I’m not going to say anything bad so out with it!”

“Belgium” he forced out quickly and immediately turned his attention to the harried looking waiter arriving with their food so he didn’t need to look at her. Though why he thought Scotland would object to Belgium she had no idea. She remained quiet as they ate; trying to work out why of all people he had told her. Scotland may have been a not so secret romantic but putting romance into practice was not her strong suit and everyone knew it.

Maybe Wales thought France had rubbed off on her (he had but not in any way her brother would like to hear about)? She really hoped not, France might find her failed attempts at romance adorable but she doubted it would work for everyone.

He finished before her and sat looking uncomfortable until his sister took pity on him, “so how did you two end up talking then?” Scotland asked as she stabbed at a particularly stubborn bit of carrot. 

Wales ran a hand through his hair and lent back in his chair, “she’s friends with Arthur and we ended up talking one day when I was staying with him” he shrugged “it’s not the most exciting story”.

“Exciting love stories are rarely all that fun to live through” Scotland advised, shoving her plate away and taking a swig of her drink.  “But what are you telling me for?”

He fidgeted, “I thought you might know how to ask her out”.

She gaped at him, “how the fuck would I know?” While Scotland had spoken to Belgium before it wasn’t as though they were best friends and she had no idea what the other woman liked.  

Wales looked at her desperately “but you’re female” as her expression darkened slightly he quickly added “how did France woo you?”

Scotland winced, she didn’t think that there had been all that much wooing and considering the mess they had made of it the first time she didn’t believe that anything she could remember would be all that helpful. She had no desire to watch her brother go through what she had.

“Don’t do what France did, that’s my advice”, when Wales face fell she softened and huffed “just be yourself and show her you care. I don’t fucking know”.

He actually laughed at that, his brow crinkling in mirth and eyes brightening “you really are a master of the art of romance _Yr Alban”._ But Wales quickly sobered up“is it really that simple though?” he wondered looking thoughtful. He was burly, tall and handsome in his own way and Scotland really wasn’t sure how he’d managed to get as old as he was without ever having a lover of some kind.

 “I doubt it because when is life ever simple? But if she likes you she likes you for yourself not some fake romance shite” she shrugged and smiled across the table “you’ll be fine”.

The handsome young waiter returned and took the plates but at her request he brought back the menu so Scotland could peruse the dessert menu.

Wales coughed and Scotland looked up, “that advice deserves cake” she said sternly “and if you’re ever on a date with your lady and she wants cake just give her the bloody cake”.

“Do I need to pay for that bit of advice at well?”

“Nope, that ones for free” she put the menu down and grinned at him, “now I’m having some of this homemade chocolate cake if that’s okay with you?”

“Go ahead” Wales waved a hand in her general direction “I’ll have whatever you have”. He looked over at the crowded bar and frowned “do you think I should ask her out for dinner or something the next time I get her alone?”

Scotland nodded “that might be an idea”, she snorted at his worried expression “oh relax she won’t eat you and I really can’t come along to hold your hand”.

Wales just grunted and spent the rest of the meal plotting his possible “date” inside his head, occasionally muttering to himself and asking her questions, while Scotland ate her share of the cake and then the remains of his half eaten one. He even paid the bill in relative silence and turned down Scotland’s half-hearted offer of help.

“She’s a nice lass” Scotland commented quietly as they left the warmth of the bustling pub for the icy cold Scottish night, “and I think you’ll do fine so stop worrying”.

He shivered in a sudden blast of wind and drew up his coat collar as his sister made a valiant attempt at ignoring it. “I’ll do my best” he replied, then before she could protest he dragged Scotland close for an almost bone crushing bear hug. She squawked and wacked at his shoulder as he let out one of his deep rumbling laughs “thank you for your help sister” he offered with a smirk as he released her.  

Scotland stepped away with as much of her dignity as she could muster, “just let me know how you get on” she requested only slightly breathless “I’d like to know”.

Wales deserved this to work out, Scotland thought as she watched him leave, and if she had to distract England herself she would make sure he had a chance. 


End file.
